


About Miracles

by DebbyBacellar



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy, Johnlock freeform, M/M, Parentlock, a bit of angst, alternative universe, happy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbyBacellar/pseuds/DebbyBacellar
Summary: Because life is made up of surprises, and it is up to us to decide to make them disasters or miracles, and if it were a choice, John always, would always choice for the miracle.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if I made a big mess with English. I am not a native speaker, so please forgive me in advance. I hope you like this little piece of cuteness. Kisses!

About Miracles

 

By Debby Bacellar.

Mycroft arrives in 221B, a briefcase in his hand, his face dismayed. John offers tea as usual, annoying himself internally for Mycroft to be occupying his chair. Sherlock is seated, dressed in his suit and his hands folded under his chin. It's morbidly annoying that he cannot figure out the reason for this unexpected visit. John sits on the couch and stares at the two brothers, frowning with concern.

Mycroft does not protease for the first time in his life.

"I received a posthumous letter." He begins. "From an interesting woman named Anne Flores." 

Sherlock’s heart accelerates in chest, but he still does not know the reason, he cannot even begin to understand why Anne would send a letter to his brother after she died?

"Overdose?" Sherlock wary of the reason for her death.

"Cancer, lungs." Mycroft responds.

"Why would she send you a letter?" Sherlock makes his doubt verbal and Mycroft begins to spill the facts as if Sherlock's life could be reduced to a simple folder of documents.

"You had an affair, while you both lived high on heroin. You were careful with syringes, but not with sex, not when you discovered it for first time."

Sherlock heard John's sharp intake of air and it was an internal struggle to keep his face blank.

“Anne became pregnant, Sherlock.” Mycroft says. "But she lost the battle against addiction a few times. Five years ago, Scott, _your_ son, was born, deaf and dumb, which is not surprising due to Anne's continued use ouf drugs. It was only after realizing how her addiction had affected the life of the little one that she had generated that she had been able to stay clean, apparently for all these years.”

“She worked as a supermarket cashier and despite the almost deplorable condition of her life, she created Scott very well. She claims in her letter that she did not want to contact you earlier because she feared what contact with a junkie like you would do to her child. She was far from this world and wanted to stay that way. "

"Oh my God, Sherlock ..." John whispered, but Sherlock could not identify his voice’s tone, he was too overwhelmed at the moment.

"When she got the news of the cancer, she did research on you, but she was still not sure whether or not to contact you, even though you looked good and completely free of the addiction. She was a smart girl, and she managed to find out about me, and that I worked for the government, which was enough for her to trust me with information of your fatherhood, I suppose. The cancer was fast, unfortunately. She died four days ago and Scott finds himself in a shelter. I confirmed the paternity with a simple DNA test. Of course, I cannot allow a Holmes to grow under these conditions, but I need to know, now, what should I do. "

"What the hell, what do you mean, Mycroft? "John asks in disgust. "He's Sherlock's son, and he just lost his mother, of course he must be with his father now."

Mycroft turns to John and says with contempt. "You, John Watson, have been living with my brother for a few years. Do you really think he have what it takes to raise a child, and more, a special need bearer? "

"Sherlock is not the kind of man who abandons his son to fate. He would not do that, Sherlock, tell him, please." John half says, half begs.

"I would be a lousy father," Sherlock says, his eyes wide with fear. "I'm going to ruin the life of the child, I'll... I cannot John, I cannot!" He says and lifts in a smash, heading toward his bedroom and slamming the door violently, locking himself in as he does many times when he does not know how to solve a problem or how to handle with his own chaotic feelings.

"He will never be a father. Not a good one. Take that, Dr. Watson. All lives end, all hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage"

“Repeat this for yourself as many times as you want to try to convince yourself of your sovereignty over feelings, as if a human being who truly manages to dissociate himself from his own emotions by choice is really worthy of being called human. That's what makes us who we are, Mycroft. Caring does not make you stupid or vulnerable. To care, not to yourself, but to other people, is a beautiful and selfless act. Can you really understand the meaning of this word?”

“Sherlock is not you and you being the elder brother, being his example, someone to look at and follow, told him in small sentences constantly to be selfish, for not to be who he is, because who he really is in your sight is a foolish thing. You will no longer project these feelings of inadequacy into him, because there is no one in the world I know who has the ability to love as deeply as Sherlock loves. I will not let you destroy it."

Then John growls in his captain's voice. "Get out of our house. Now!"

Completely disgusted, Mycroft obeyed, knowing that John was not far from resorting to physical violence.

John gets up and goes to the door of their bedroom, talking through the wood, his voice soft, his heart pounding like a tribal drum.

"There's a little boy out there, somewhere..." he begins." That need his father now. He is different, he needs so much help because he does not have the ease of others. He cannot hear when some danger approaches, he cannot use his voice to ask for help if someone hurts him. The only person in the world he had is gone, and the one that remains, and he does not even know is refusing to reach out to help him. Think of him Sherlock... Think of this little boy, your little boy, Sherlock, probably full of curls, sad eyes, crying for his mother who will not return, so alone... So lonely."

Two thick tears pour down Sherlock's face, which is now sitting on the floor listening to John's words streaming through the thin wood.

"You can do this Sherlock. You can put a smile on that sad face again. You can supply his needs, you can be his voice, his ears, you can love him and make sure you will be loved back, because there is no love in the world greater than that of a child. There is nothing more beautiful in the world than the love of a son for a father."

Sherlock opens the door abruptly, throwing himself into John's arms.

"I cannot do this alone." He murmurs as the good doctor's arms surround him with warmth and tenderness.

"You are not going. I'll be by your side every step of the way, at every curve of every corner."

"But... When we started our relationship you did not sign up for it. I... You like the danger of cases and the adrenaline that I can offer you, and with a child everything will change... And I do not want to lose you. I cannot". Sherlock says, his eyes closed tight as he uttered truths that were held in the deepest part of his heart.

John stops for a moment, stroking the hair of his lover, the man he loves and whom he has chosen to share life with.

"I love you Sherlock, and I love all your pieces. Your son is a piece of you and he needs you now, he needs...  _Us"._ He completes, feeling already fond of a being he has not even met.

"We let's do this together... I promise." John whispers and Sherlock falls to relief.

 

(***)

Sherlock feels nervous at the door of the home for orphaned children where his son are be. A psychologist was sent in advance to inform him that his father would be coming for him. John's hands entwined in his was like an anchor, steadying him, preventing him from drifting.

Minutes later, a little boy comes walking, a backpack of _peppa pig_ on his back, his face like an angel. He is blonde, curly’s hair and eyes like Sherlock's, a small, uncertain face and fearful footsteps. He looks up at the two men waiting for him. One of them, the tall one, kneels before him.

 _"Hello, I'm your father..."_  He gestures in sign language, which little Scott already understands.  _"I'm sorry for not coming before, but I promise that if you want, I'll take you home, I'll be with you, taking care of you, forever._ _You want this?"._

Little Scott cannot answer, because he feels so sad for his mother that will not come back, but so happy because there is someone who will take care of him now. He throws himself into his father's arms and repeatedly signs with his little hands the gesture that says: " _Thank you, thank you, thank you."_

And the two melt in each other's embrace as John crouches beside them with tears in their eyes, one hand caressing his lover's curls and the other the little angel's curls. They have earned a gift of life to love, care and protect as long as there was life for each of them. 

Because life is made up of surprises, and it is up to us to decide to make them disasters or miracles, and if it were a choice, John always, would always choice for the miracle.

The End...


End file.
